


a bullet is a man (from time to time he strays)

by antisepticdork



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, Episode Tag, First Kiss, M/M, and a lot of them are Danny's fault, basically Steve has issues, but not really, so many issues, spoilers for 2x01 through 2x03 if you haven't seen them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antisepticdork/pseuds/antisepticdork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... that when he’d met Danny’s eyes in the rearview mirror he never wanted to look away, that he truly did want Danny to be happy and he’d come close to adding "with me", but knew that if there was ever going to be a time for a statement like that, it wasn’t while Steve was a fugitive and Danny was aiding and abetting.</p><p>(Coda to episodes 2.01, 2.02 and 2.03.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	a bullet is a man (from time to time he strays)

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired to write this shortly after binging on the first three episodes of S2 - basically there wasn't enough angst (ha!), and naturally I needed to make more. Anyway, it's been sitting in my documents folder, so I tweaked it a little and decided to share. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Title is from "Light My Way" by Audioslave.

Steve had been trying to gauge Danny’s reaction to watching the SEAL team takedown since they left Pearl, and behind his stoic mask he was freaking out because he _couldn’t_. 

Danny—who was usually the first to express an opinion about anything, who was so damn easy to read—was quiet as he gazed out the window while the truck rumbled along, motionless hands folded loosely in his lap. Those hands always told a story, and his voice and cadence always let Steve know exactly what the mood was and how many buttons he could push; the silence gave him nothing to go on.

Steve had to bite his tongue until he tasted blood to keep from asking Danny if he was pissed, or unsettled, or if he just wanted to jump out of the cab to put distance between them. 

That last one wouldn’t have made any sense, because Danny had stepped closer to Steve while he and Chin and Lori took in something that Steve and Joe had seen countless times, had been a part of in different capacities. When Danny asked if that used to be him and Steve said yes, he knew his partner’s perception of him had to have been altered, because seeing bits and pieces of his training come out on a day-to-day basis was a far cry from viewing the whole picture, live and in night-vision.

Steve didn’t know what to think, he had no idea what Danny was thinking, and suddenly the silence between them was suffocating—it was also completely foreign. They were _always_ talking, or bitching at each other, or nearly dying together, and this nothingness was like a void.

The only logical solution was for Steve to start talking. 

He babbled about everything from his week in prison—largely uneventful up until he got shanked by Victor Hesse—to a bunch of recipes his mother used to cook involving pineapple, and a lot of stuff in between. He could feel Danny’s eyes on him occasionally—no doubt he was wondering if Steve had finally lost his last marble—but he didn’t interrupt the little role-reversal thing they were doing.

Steve was almost glad for that, because at the sound of Danny’s voice he might not have been able to stop himself from saying something important. The crazy, completely head-over-heels in love part of him—the part he’d kept stowed away in a mental lockbox for the better part of a year, until he saw Danny on the other side of that Plexiglas at the prison—wanted to let it all out. 

He wanted to tell Danny that Steve’s first smile in days had had nothing to do with the blond man’s lack of a tie—his lips had curled upward because Danny had _stayed_ , he had believed that Steve was innocent from the jump. He didn’t know what he’d done to earn that kind of loyalty—especially since Danny made a habit of telling him he had a mental health problem at every opportunity—but he knew if he got out, he’d hold tight to that and never let it go. He also knew that if anybody could make him a free man again, it would be Danny.

But, he didn’t say that.

He also didn’t mention that when they were riding in Max’s ridiculous car and Steve found out that he wasn’t the sole reason Danny was looking haggard and stressed—that Rachel’s baby was Stan’s, that she was going back to him—that he’d felt a strange mix of sympathy and relief. That when he’d met Danny’s eyes in the rearview mirror he never wanted to look away, that he truly did want Danny to be happy and he’d come close to adding _with me_ , but knew that if there was ever going to be a time for a statement like that, it wasn’t while Steve was a fugitive and Danny was aiding and abetting.

Steve didn’t say anything about how as beautiful and intelligent and witty as Lori Weston was, she could never compare to Danny, that he’d felt an initial spark of attraction and nothing else. 

He kept mum about taking cover in that building when they were trying to rescue Jen, about how when Danny insisted that they didn’t have to kill _everybody_ , Steve had had to restrain himself because it was hardwired into him to eliminate the threats before they could do any damage to your people. That if he didn’t focus on the tight press of Danny’s shoulder against his own and the mental image of that pendant full of heart medication he could’ve easily slipped into the barren mindset of a killing machine.

And he _definitely_ wasn’t going to bring up what happened in the storeroom at the restaurant. He’d had that guy pressed into those shelves, arm against his throat, completely focused on getting a confession because this was about a _SEAL_ , and that made him one of his own even if he’d never met the man. He had felt Danny’s fingers, light and hesitant against his back, and then when Danny’s hands wrapped around his waist and shoulder and pulled him back it had scared Steve, because all of his natural defensive instincts vanished at the simple press of callouses against his bare skin, of a warm yet insistent grip tugging him away.

“Steve… yo, Earth to Steven, are you there?”

Steve blinked, and found that they were sitting in the parking lot at Five-0, the truck idling in the space next to the Camaro. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I _said_ , as much as I find the different types of foot fungus you’ve contracted in your worldly travels to be utterly fascinating, I’d like to know if we’re going back to your place.”

Steve’s fingers flexed against the wheel as he glanced at Danny and then looked away again. He knew he was making one of those faces he was always being told he had, but didn’t think he could stop without pulling something. They had paperwork to do, but it could wait until tomorrow. “Uh, yeah. If you want. I’ve still got beer from last time.”

“Good, ‘cause I could use one.” Danny’s hand touched Steve’s shoulder briefly, hot like a brand even through his T-shirt, and then it was gone. “And since you’re the one that just jumped out of a plane, you probably could, too. I’ll follow you back.”

Steve nodded, staring straight out the windshield until he heard the Camaro’s engine rev to life. Then he backed the truck out and headed for the road, checking the rearview every once in a while to make sure Danny was still there.

 

~***~

 

“So what the hell was that, anyway?” Danny asked, once they were settled out on the lanai, shoes off and Longboards in hand.

“What was what?”

Danny waved a hand. “ _You_ , my friend, running at the mouth all the way back from the base—I don’t think I’ve heard you talk that much at one time, and let me tell you, it was a little disturbing.”

Steve took a pull off his beer. “If it was so disturbing, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t know if it was some kind of coping mechanism—although the more I think about that the more ludicrous it gets—or just verbal diarrhea. Come to think of it, you probably cope by brooding in a corner or dismantling bombs, not speaking about the bountiful merits of fiberglass insulation over spray foam.”

Steve frowned—this almost felt normal, but there was an undercurrent to it that made his shoulders feel tight. “Why would I need to cope? I’m fine.”

Danny put down his bottle, leaning an elbow on the arm of his chair so he could look at Steve head-on. “So what, that little viewing party didn’t send you back anywhere?”

It had, but that wasn’t the problem. “Danno, I see shit every day that does that—you know it doesn’t affect me like this.”

“Like _what_ , exactly? Clearly something’s the matter and if I have to pry it out of you, I will, because I’m not working with Captain Squirrely for the rest of the week.”

“That’s _Commander_ Squir—” Steve let his forehead hit his palm while Danny chuckled next to him, pleased with himself. Then from nowhere, Steve blurted out, “You’ve got Gracie this weekend, right?”

Danny raised his eyebrows. “Okay, total one-eighty, I can work with that. Yes, I have her—why?”

Steve wasn’t sure where the hell he was going with this, but once the words started they wouldn’t stop. “Well, you know you can bring her over, right? I mean, if you still want to, I’d get it if you—”

“Whoa, whoa, back up,” Danny said, out of his chair and in front of Steve, beer forgotten in the sand, hands on his hips. “Why _wouldn’t_ I want to bring my daughter to your place, huh? She loves it here, she’s done nothing but ask me about Uncle Steve every time I’ve talked to—” He cut himself off abruptly, realization dawning on his face. “Oh, babe, you give me a migraine. Let me take a stab at this, total shot in the dark—you think that because I’ve seen firsthand what a SEAL does, I’m, what, gonna be _scared_ of you?”

Steve didn’t say anything.

“That’s exactly what you think, isn’t it? Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more of an idiot—” Danny shook his head, crouching down in the sand so he could meet Steve’s gaze, which was currently trained on his feet. “Hey, look at me—yeah, you see this? This is me, not afraid of you for several reasons, the first being that I am a grown man, an officer of the law, and I carry a gun. I have seen much, much more terrifying things than you playing Rambo, even if it gives me a goddamn ulcer.”

“But don’t you get it, Danny?” Steve exclaimed, standing almost violently and trying to ignore the prickly feeling he got when Danny was unfazed and rose with him. “When I do shit like that, I’m not playing—it’s who I am, it’s who I’m always going to be, and I can’t change.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to,” Danny replied, so quietly that Steve almost didn’t hear it. He was biting his lower lip, and his hand hesitated momentarily before flattening itself against Steve’s chest, almost over his heart. “That stuff you can’t tell me about, because it’s classified or because it’s just too damn painful? That doesn’t matter.”

Steve swallowed, eyes flickering from Danny’s hand to his face, mouth suddenly dry. “It doesn’t?”

Danny shrugged. “Well, it’s not that I don’t wonder about it—I do, of course I do—but even though it’s a part of who you are, it’s not _all_ you are. You’re a big damn hero who takes stupid risks because you can’t help it, yeah, but you’re also my friend and I trust you with my life—and with Gracie’s, too. I know you’ll always have my back, that you’ll try to do the right thing—and it’s not a SEAL I expect that of, Steven, it’s you.” Danny met his eyes, and Steve felt something in his chest loosen and give way. “It’s been you for a while now.”

Steve brought his hands up slowly, palms cupping Danny’s face, fingers sliding almost timidly into his hair—and when Danny leaned into his touch, he was a goner. 

They kissed, gently at first and then so much harder, tongues tangling and Danny’s hands sliding up Steve’s back under his shirt, nails digging into his skin. The whole time Steve was hyperaware of what he was doing, every point of contact lighting a fire in his head that he knew was never going to go out—now that he’d had this, this thing he had been too afraid to admit that he wanted, he was addicted. One of his hands clutched at the back of Danny’s neck, and the other trailed downward until Steve could hook his fingers through Danny’s belt loop and pull him closer.

When they were both breathless and half-hard, Danny leaned away, chuckling again.

Steve joined him, though he wasn’t sure why they were laughing. “What’s funny?”

“Ah, nothing.” Danny leaned up on his toes and nipped Steve’s bottom lip. “Why don’t you show me exactly how scary you are, babe?”

Steve smiled against his mouth. “I’d be happy to.”


End file.
